


Watch

by meanboss



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Body Horror, Gross, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-06 12:44:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11600925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meanboss/pseuds/meanboss
Summary: short based on the last chase with Val





	Watch

The world shook around them and Val's stomach turned, watched the bodies whose faces were obscured in clay get crushed under the stones dropping from the, the father was free. It was just the two of them sharing a moment of disorientation before he turned his back to them and dragged himself out of the water, into a dark passage. The end was indeed nigh; they were once a cynic, now what happened?

They dipped their feet into the water, armed with a torch to light the way, that crown on their heads. Their vision was clear as day a moment ago, now blurry and tainted with blots of purple and red, eyelashes and dust floating in their sight, movement took a second to catch up with them. Like being drunk. Like being on the verge of passing. But only death could put them to sleep at this point.

_Help me make this right_

Some memories of being seated on Knoth's wooden throne when they had the time to themselves, waiting for the wax they polished the floor with to dry; wrong, from the corners of the room inwards, trapping themselves on that pedestal, in that chair; pulled up their skirt of their gown and humped their own hand, imagining a crowd looking up at them like they did to Knoth. Not a word said, just do whatever the fuck you want, God doesn't care about you, God doesn't have a larger plan, do whatever the fuck you people want to do. Burn the crops down, milk your horses, mount your bulls, rip your clothes off of your backs, set them on fire! Eat your husbands! Wipe your ass with the gospel! Just please, please, please leave my children alone.

Submerged, stuck under the rocks, Val felt those bodies squirm as they mindlessly crept past them, they hadn't seen their faces in hours. Days? Who were they? It was a very brief moment of desperation, Val didn't have the time to mourn or to set them free, but they hoped they knew they were very much loved. Being this near the end, they justified their actions by reminding themselves that soon enough, they would all be dead.

But they did want the father to see it. It was not only his right but his obligation; look in his child's eyes, feel its heat against his chest, hear the first cry. He'd get a sniff of it and he'd be theirs; they'd look at one another and he would see what so many others had seen, a beautiful moment of mutual, quiet understanding.

To not even try to get him to see. That, would be cruel.

They stayed close, watched for the bubbles that floated to the surface of the water, heard the splashing and his panting. Val knows these mines like the back of their hand; they know ahead of time what Blake will have to do. The lever, the passage, a wormhole, the ladder, the rails, the cave, another hole. They're closing in on him like when they mopped the floors of the chapel; corners inwards, trap themselves in a little unpolished circle in the middle of the room, fifteen minutes for nothing but silent contemplation, looking into the ceiling, the beautiful glass windows; the rays of sunlight infiltrating that despicable place.

He's so stupid. He wants to see his wife, but doesn't seem to realize that that's everyone's desire. Val doesn't split families apart.

They set her up like a mobile above a baby's crib, no chance or opportunity to run, to move, nobody could fucking touch her but Val, they made that very clear. Do whatever the fuck you want to one another, but leave the woman be. They're convinced nobody sees her like they do. Val loves them all but they aren't as invested in the people that are making the gears move, they're in it for the profit; the baby. Its a symbol of rebellion, It's Knoth's biggest fear. They don't care for the vessel, they don't care for the man, it's a second-hand regard because their leader seems to think that they're important.

In fact, Val loves them so much that when they come to his thoughts, they feel like they could cry.

Drawn to the light of the beast's mouth. They’re already waiting for him there in their own throne of stone; they see him stumble in from above, arms reaching out for his wife while barely glancing at what took place around him.

Generous of you, Blake.

They thought they might find it alluring, but he's like a beaten horse with its blinders on, following a strict path since he set foot in that place. Val understands it, they can't blame him or be angered by it because they understand it. Admire it. Maybe envy.

Its tough. To go to these lengths to achieve something and remain a blur in someone else's peripheral vision.

He has come, the fruit of your lust.

Your child; your father.

The Christ we deserve. Watch.

They called each other's names so often they lost meaning, like dogs barking at  each other from across the street, necks sticking out of fences, pulling on their leashes. Val didn't know what he planned on doing if he was finally allowed to reunite with her, they had a feeling he hadn't thought that far either; its an animal kind of instinct that drives them to remain by the corpses of their lovers and keep vultures away. Maybe, when that child was born, he would eat it so she knew she was his still.

Letting Blake get so close to her before finally knocking him back on the floor, was by far the cruelest thing Val felt like they ever did.

I have so much pleasure to share with you.

It's out of pure malice that they did what they did. Val mounted him whilst staring into Blake's eyes, squeezed, shook or twisted something when he tried to spot his wife again. He's a soft, lifeless slab of meat, cock barely grows rigid even as Val is drenched in discharge; its dissolving the mud stuffed into their cunt, staining Blake's lap with their filth, they're squeezing him inside them and feeling the blood pump his dick awake. To Val, this means he wants it too, even if Blake's eyes seem unfocused and dead, bulging out of his skull. He mumbles

You win, okay?

Val's face crunches up, dried dirt flakes off and falls onto Blake's chest, their skin hurts;  pulling on sores and cracking up scabs underneath the mud. Their knees are still rising and dropping their body, a repeating wet slap. The chamber is drowning in similar sounds, others thrive in their own decadence, piles of men and women lost in hazes, trying to get any feeling out of grinding their bodies together. The bloated woman hanging before them wails.

Val closes their fist and drives it into his jaw, Blake's glasses are knocked off his face and he shakes his head, recovering the look of fear from before. They roll their hips, clench their insides, think about burning up together in a pyre; charred skin slides off like leather, fat dissolves and moltens, combines, their flesh burns till it looks like coal and then turns to dust.

The heat, the smoke, they suffocate with each other's breath in their faces. wrapped around one another like vines.

It will be beautiful,


End file.
